Page 43 of Breaker

I clear my throat. "I stupidly thought doing measurements with slime was a good idea, but then the kids started to throw it. I slipped, and uh…you're head of cardiology, Dad."

He hums, moving my wrist gently to one side where I don't feel any pain but wince when he moves it to the other side.

He says, "I'm also a general surgeon, Quinny. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you forgot that, huh?" He looks at me. "I was once your hero; you were a daddy's little girl, coming to work with me as much as I could allow, wanting to be a pediatrician. And now, well, I ruined your image of me all those years ago, though I am proud of you for sticking with children." My eyes tear up, but I look down, not wanting him to see, though, as perspective as my father is, he notices. "I want a chance to speak with you, pumpkin, with no one else around. You and me, so we can finally talk about the past. I miss my daughter."

I shake my head and look down as he continues to inspect my wrist, and I whisper, "Why should I?"

He mumbles, "Because I love you, sweetheart. It's been nearly eighteen years, and you've never forgiven me. I want my daughter back, Quinny." I blink several times as he says, "I believe it's just badly bruised, but you will need a splint on for a few weeks. We'll do an x-ray to be on the safe side; I won't chance anything with you."

I nod as I look at him to see he's writing something up on my chart, before putting the chart down. Then he looks at me. His eyes show so many emotions that I can't decipher them before he's leaning down, kissing my head, and rasping, "Caramels, one town over in two days, I'll be waiting at noon. I love you, Quinny."

He turns and goes to walk out but stops when I rasp, finally letting him understand why I never forgave him, "Did you know three days after I caught you and that nurse and Grams had died, Momma tried to kill herself?" He turns my way in shock, his eyes filling with tears. I continue, "At seven years old, not only did I witness my grandmother have a heart attack and my father cheating on the woman he claimed to love more than anything in this world, but I also walked in on my mother slitting her wrists." His tears fall along with mine. "At seven years old, Dad, I had to stop the bleeding and call 911, all while she cried, asking why she wasn't good enough anymore, why you had to destroy her; why you didn't love her enough to let her go instead of betraying her."

He stands near the curtain, staring at me for a good couple of minutes in silence, shocked at my secrets—mine and Momma's—before the curtain is pushed back again. This time, my heart stops at seeing Breaker standing there, looking disheveled. He halts, looking at me with pure panic before relief etches his features.

My father rasps, "Noon, two days, Quinny, and no, I'm not giving you a choice; you will be there."

With that, he leaves, shocking me, as Breaker rushes to my side, his hand grabbing my uninjured one as his lips go to my head. And that petrifying feeling of being consumed, along with feeling “home” hits me, and I close my eyes, taking in his strength. I'm going to miss this so much when I leave.

My mind wanders.

Can I meet my Dad?

18

Breaker

I grunt as I swing the bat against the tree again, trying to get rid of my anger and agitation without breaking shit.

Momma is picking up Noah, who has gone back to not talking to me again since learning the news, and I'm fucking struggling. My girl, according to Snake, handed in her resignation two days ago, and still won't open her door to me even when I plead. I mean, I could just unlock it with my key, but I don't want her to pull back farther than she already has.

I feel like I can't fucking breathe without her, and I'm running out of time. I've told her all my secrets, including when Doc and I fiddled with Kennedy's first date’s car to ensure she didn't go anywhere, yet the door remains closed. However, I did get a pissed-off call from Ken about it, so I know Quinn is listening.

I'm running out of ideas for getting her to understand that she's mine and that the club won't allow her to move.

I hit the tree again harder, bits of bark flying around me as the metal smashes against it, helping to soothe something inside me. I’m hitting the tree again and again, idea after idea coming to mind on how to keep my girl, including tying her to my bed, when my phone goes off. I sigh, hoping another drug dealer hasn't popped up like a daisy.

I've managed to either scare off, seriously hurt, or kill every member of the group that tried to strong arm the residents of Huntersville into selling their gang’s cocaine through their businesses.

I drop the bat on the ground, then walk over to my cut and grab my phone. I ignore the eyes of the clubwhores who came out after I took my shirt off about an hour ago. I freeze at the words on the screen, panic slamming into me.

Paul S: Quinn's in the E.R.

I don't think. I grab my shirt, put it on, grab my cut, and then run for the clubhouse doors. I slam through them as the women moan, losing their entertainment, and head for the front door.

Behind me, Snake shouts, "Where'sthe fire?"

I reply, "Quinn's in the E.R.," as I slam through the front door and head to my truck, ignoring the voices clamoring for answers.

Ten minutes later, after breaking several speeding laws, I rush into the E.R. Becky, the nurse who is obsessed with Doc, looks at me from her spot near the desk. Her eyes brighten, but I ignore her and look at the cubicles. I see Paul's figure near a partially opened curtain. I run over there and open the curtain, only to come to a stop.

My girl, who owns my heart, is sitting on the bed, her feet dangling off the side. I can't even take in how beautiful she looks in the black wrap dress because my eyes go straight to her wrist. It’s swollen and bruised, propped up by two pillows.

Anger hits me hard.

"Noon, two days, Quinny, and no, I'm not giving you a choice. You will be there," Paul says to Quinn before patting my back then leaving. I rush into the room and hurry to her side. I grab her uninjured hand, and place my lips to her head, inhaling deep.

Vanilla hits my senses as well as the scent of paint, making me smile.

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